


throw our lives away (for one happy day)

by frankenvenus



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: (Me when I lie), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Crystal is Christian & Gigi is Satine, Drinking, F/F, First Time, Modernised late 1800s, Moulin Rouge AU, No Lesbians Die, Widow is Harold Zidler, i feel so bad for how this is about to make y'all feel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26223448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankenvenus/pseuds/frankenvenus
Summary: "You've got a talent with your tongue, princess.""You mean like, multilingual?""Yeah. Sure."
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Comments: 21
Kudos: 48





	throw our lives away (for one happy day)

**Author's Note:**

> this is so self-indulgent, and the idea was spoon-fed to me by horrorlesbian, and they were also my beta, as well as glitterbee, so heeey, love y'all. this physically pained me to write and read over, and my betas agreed so uhh, have fun reading! at least the smut is hot yaknow...

It had been almost a year since Crystal packed her bags and fled to Paris. She had grown tired of her Missouri family’s traditionalist ways and decided to sail overseas to live with her penpal, Nicolette. Nicolette was an aspiring playwright who performed in a theatre group with her two friends Heidi and Jaida. The trio embraced Crystal into their friendship group with open arms and would always allow her to observe whilst they rehearsed scenes.

Crystal herself dreamed of becoming a romance novelist. She’d spend days working herself to pieces behind her old Sholes and Glidden, but sometimes all the effort felt futile. Unsurprisingly, romance novels written by women about women that love other women didn’t sell so well. She had come to live a penniless existence, but that didn’t stop her from writing the beauty of femininity, truth, sexual freedom and _love._ She wrote about love like she had experienced it before, but she hadn’t.

When she first moved to the city, she knew near to nothing about it. The world had begun to be swept up in a Bohemian revolution, and Nicolette, Heidi and Jaida all seemed to be pioneers. They would go out and party for hours at a time, then return to their humble loft apartment in Montmartre.

“You should write a book about a trio of promising actresses trying to make a name for themselves in the city of lights,” Heidi said to Crystal one Friday during rehearsal. “I guarantee it would sell.”

“I really don’t think it would,” Crystal laughed breathily, a finger placed on her lips.

Nicolette stormed into the room with a pile of papers tucked under her arm and her expression stern. 

“I have a plan for how we are going to sell our new play,” she stated, and a wave of soft ‘hows’ followed. “We sell it to Widow Von’Du tonight. If we can’t get close enough to her to sell it, we get closer to one of her favourite dancers. Like… Goode, or something.”

Crystal furrowed her brows, “Widow Von’Du?”

“Uh, yeah. _The_ Widow Von’Du,” Jaida chuckled. “The owner of the Moulin Rouge cabaret. Haven’t you heard of it? The three of us go there once a month. It’s kind of a huge deal.”

The American was suddenly fascinated. She had heard of a few cabarets dotted around her state back home, but it wasn’t often that you’d find a worthy club in the bible belt. She had always yearned to watch live performances. The only thing she had ever seen live was the opera that toured to her city once, and she fell asleep.

“Are you planning on going there tonight?” the asked, and the trio nodded questioningly. “Do you think I could come along, maybe? You could like- dress me up and say I’m some well known American writer. And I can tell that Goode person or whatever all about my works, and get her on my side, and I’ll be able to sell your play.”

Heidi and Nicolette scanned Crystal analytically. They were very protective of the script that had spent so long creating. They didn’t want to tarnish their reputation, but Jaida thought otherwise.

“The girl has a point. French ladies _adore_ American accents. Goode will be all over Crystal, I’m sure.”

They all settled on a plan and began to dress up in their most expensive clothing to fit into the intensely high-class atmosphere of the Moulin Rouge.

“Which one is Goode? I’ll need to be able to identify her when I get there.” Crystal wondered whilst Heidi poured the former her first-ever shot of absinthe, an essential drink to down before entering the cabaret.

Nicolette smirked, “You’ll know who she is when you see her.”

The four of them stared at one another mischievously before tipping their heads back and swallowing the toxic-looking green liquid in each of their glasses down in one gulp. It tasted like the outdoors, herbs, and somewhat death. Crystal’s eyes squeezed shut as the liquid burned down her throat, but once recovered, she clasped her hands together and grinned, preparing herself for the night ahead.

Rumour had it, upon taking your first shot of absinthe, you would hallucinate a beautiful green fairy, as a result of the hint of wormwood in the liquor. Unfortunately for Crystal, said fairy did not appear. She sighed upon the realisation that it was some stupid drunken myth.

When they arrived there, Crystal didn’t know what she was expecting before entering the fantastically bright scarlet building. The sky was already pitch black, but the bulb lights from the large letters that spelt out _Moulin Rouge_ in all capitals illuminated the street well enough. There were surrounding posters listing acts and appearances, and the top one read _’Gigi Goode: the Sparkling Diamond,’_ though Crystal’s head was spinning too much to fully process what it said. 

A gathering crowd swept her and her friends inside, and Crystal almost teared up at the sight of the bright golden lights, eccentric cancan dancers and body types of all shapes and sizes that filled the main room. She watched as the women kicked their legs high in the air, ruffling their magnificent skirts and flashing bright underwear to the lulled men in front. Crystal didn’t want to stare _too_ hard, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

She watched as a large, transcendent woman strutted out, holding a golden studded cane. Jaida leaned into Crystal’s ear and whispered;

“That, my girl, is Widow Von’Du.”

The brunette could only stretch her grin as Widow tapped the thick curves of her dancers with her cane. She owned the stage like it was her home. She had the crowd screaming with her provocative dance moves whilst flipping her stunning red locs around.

“God, she’s incredible,” Crystal stated, awestruck. She watched as Nicky took a sip of something before ushering Von’Du over, only after making sure the cabaret owner’s performance had finished.

“My dear Nicolette!” Widow exclaimed when she spotted the woman, loosely wrapping her arms around her neck and leaning in to peck her flushed cheeks under the warm stage lights. 

Crystal stepped back for a moment, trying to keep her focus on the dancers whilst Nicky and Widow exchanged whispers just a meter away. She didn’t want to intrude on a private conversation, yet she was intrigued. What business did Nicky have being close to someone so high up in the industry? She didn’t know Nicky was so well-respected. She watched Nicky’s cherry lips curl multiple times, and she winked at Crystal once or twice. 

And then, suddenly, she was being gestured over. Widow was waving two fingers in the air and looking hard at Crystal with deep chestnut eyes. Her smile was sinister, and Crystal found herself walking over as smoothly as she could, trying her best not to trip. 

“So, we’ve made a plan for you to meet mademoiselle Goode,” said Widow, her voice warm albeit slightly hoarse. 

“We have arranged a _special meeting_ after her performance, just you and Goode. Totally alone,” Nicky giggled, her words slurred ever so slightly. Widow’s hand was gripping the short blonde’s little waist, dizzying her with excitement. 

Crystal felt her throat closed up. When the theatrical trio proposed the idea of a _meeting_ with somebody high up in the industry, Crystal thought she would be selling their work and maybe some of her own scripts, but the way Nicky put it, it seemed as if she was setting her up for a lapdance. The brunette would hardly be complaining, but she thought they were there for merely professional purposes. The thing was, she didn’t exactly know how to function around women, and if this woman she was supposed to be talking to looked anything like the ethereal beings surrounding her, Crystal didn’t think she’d succeed in getting a word out.

When Widow sauntered away, Crystal pulled Nicky close.

“I thought I was trying to sell your play? What happened to that? I did _not_ sign up for a private show…” the brunette hissed, the absinthe withering away for her, but evidently not for Nicky.

The blonde chuckled, “Crystal. Please. You’re a _slob,_ mon amour! You sit behind your typewriter all day. When was the last time you had a night out?”

“I don’t- I’ve never really-”

“Exactly! If the girls and I want to sell our script, we can do that ourselves. You need to loosen up, ma belle. Live a little. You’re almost in your _thirties_ and you’ve never even been in a relationship. Please allow yourself to have a little fun tonight. For me,” Nicky pouted.

The brunette was stunned. She stood there for a little while, mouth agape, before laughing and shaking her head in defeat. “Fine. Okay. You’re right.”

Nicky was most definitely right. Crystal had never been in a relationship, only ever drunkenly kissed _Jaida,_ never been given an orgasm, never done drugs despite her unfortunate name, never stripped for anyone, among many other things that people in their twenties commonly did. She couldn’t help but feel like she let what was supposed to be the most reckless decade of her life waste away. 

A worker passed with a tray of shots, and Crystal took one and downed it without even knowing what it was. She needed some _buzz;_ some liquid confidence. The alcohol burned at the back of her throat, and she turned to Nicky with a look of determination. 

And then Heidi was dashing over, whispering something to them that was along the lines of; “It’s her; _the Sparkling Diamond.”_

Crystal barely had time to process what her friend said before all the lights in the room dimmed to almost pitch black, and then a bright white disco light was switched on. The crowd went silent, aside from a few gasps, until a gentle singing voice echoed across the room. The brunette didn’t know where it came from, as it seemed to bounce off every wall. Then, the jazz band piped up again, and the lights went up on a burlesque performer perch on a hanging swing in nothing but a _very_ sheer corset-bodysuit pulled concerningly tight, to the point that couldn’t be more than nineteen inches wide.

With a voice smooth as silk, the performer began to sing ‘Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend’ as the swing was pulled through the air. 

Heidi dragged Crystal and Nicky to a booth to get a better look at the woman, who’s red pin curls had been sprayed with so much hairspray that not a single hair escaped as she flew around the air. It wasn’t until they reached the table and Jaida pointed it out did Crystal realise her mouth was hanging open. She promptly closed it and thanked the bad lighting for concealing her blush.

Then the Sparkling Diamond was being lowered down, onto the stage in the middle of the room where she was instantly showered in tips as she swayed her petite curves around. The brunette still hadn’t had the chance to properly see her face, but she knew from her body that she was out of this world, and she wanted her hands _all over_ her. 

The song faded into ‘Material Girl’ by Madonna, and the dancer was parting the crowd like the red sea, approaching the several tables that bordered the room.

The brunette froze, unable to move as the redhead walked towards them, swaying her hips sensually and shoving the odd tip in her bra. She could hear Heidi going _wild_ in her ear, but all she could think about were the sultry lyrics and the very low-cut bodysuit that would expose almost everything with one slip up.

Now she finally got a good look at the girl. She was all sunken cheekbones, plump lips, sharp features and chocolate brown eyes. Her curly red hair was thrown over her shoulder, displaying cavernous like collar bones that Crystal could fall into. Her thighs were milky and looked soft to the touch, and the brunette began anticipating her meeting later in hopes that she could wrap them around her own waist. 

Perhaps Gigi was the green fairy.

Many men thought it would be fun to spank Gigi when she passed, but if the woman was bothered by it, she didn’t show it. She allowed the wealthy men to lift her up and place her back on stage.

“Come and get me boys!” she called out during the instrumental part of the tune. She approached Widow with a smirk and they began to dance with one another, only eliciting louder cheers from the crowds. 

Crystal was almost vibrating in her seat, and she felt her friends bouncing up and down around her. She made a mental note to thank Nicky for dragging her out once the night was done.

Little did she know, Widow and Gigi were conversing about her on stage whilst the cancan dancers masked them with their lifted skirts.

“You have a meeting with Methyd over there,” Von’Du purred, playing with the dancer’s diamond earrings.

“Which one is that?” Goode responded, less than enthusiastic.

“The girl with the brown mullet curls.”

Gigi tensed at the thought of putting on a show for a _girl._ Never in her life had she done such a thing, though she couldn’t say she didn’t want to. 

“Are you sure?” she questioned Widow, beginning her costume change for the next number.

“Mhm!”

A group of professionals gathered around Gigi, assisting her in the removal of her bodysuit.

“Will she invest? What’s her type? Does she want me to be gentle or domineering? I’ve never had a private session with a lady before…” the panicked whilst touching up her red lipstick.

Widow sighed, “Relax, Goode. She’s not investing. She was here to propose her friends’ play but I’ve arranged to do that with them another time. For tonight we just need her to loosen up. Does that sound okay? Remember, the more private performances you do, the closer you’ll get to one day becoming a _real_ yes.”

The brunette wanted to hit her head against the wall that she rested against, just so she could reassure herself that this was real life and she wasn’t walking on air in some fantastically realistic lucid dream. 

The dancer caressed Crystal with the soft ostrich feather boa, making lustful sounds that were definitely forced, but _God_ Crystal couldn’t complain. She wished the surrounding crowds would just disappear into clouds of dust so she could pull Gigi closer and _touch_ without any judgement.

“Let’s dance.”

Crystal could only nod as she was pulled back on to the dance floor. Upon seeing Gigi chose to dance with a woman, all the men turned their heads away and focused their attention back on the cancan dancers. The redhead loosely wrapped her white-gloved arms around Crystal’s neck which the brunette was _sure_ was vibrating and she prayed Gigi couldn’t feel it.

“First time here?” the redhead queried.

Crystal cringed, “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s my first time dancing for a girl. We all start somewhere,” Gigi winked, moving her hips to the salsa music that the band was currently playing. “It’s so nice of you to take an interest in our show, though. You looked like you were really enjoying it.”

“Oh, yes. It’s incredible. It feels so good to be surrounded by oddities like this. You’d never get it back home.”

The two of them were slightly out of breath as they spoke, but neither of their smiles faltered.

“So what do you do? I’m sure I’d love it.”

“I write novels and plays and even poetry, sometimes. I love creating little worlds.”

Jaida, Nicky and Heidi cheered from a few meters away. It was a shock to the eyes to see Crystal be anything but a couch potato or a workaholic, and they were proud of her for putting herself out there. And, the way Crystal looked at Gigi as if the latter painted the sky didn’t go unnoticed to the trio.

“Maybe one time we could have a p-private poetry reading,” Crystal gulped as Gigi rolled her hips against her own.

“Oh, yes,” she hummed. “I’d _love_ that.”

They continued to dance, talking a little less and focusing more on footwork, until their legs grew too tired to continue. There were many other surrounding couples dancing in perfect sync with one another, and Crystal’s lack of coordination caused her to stick out slightly, but when all that was on her mind was _Gigi, Gigi, Gigi,_ the stares seemed irrelevant. 

The redhead blew Crystal a kiss when the song ended and was assisted back on to her swing by Widow and a male dancer who wore nothing but black pantaloons and matching suspenders. She was pulled back into the air gracefully, singing a brief encore. Men held their glasses up to her as she sat so perfectly on the wooden plank, hands wrapped around the black rope that held her up.

Crystal had returned back to her friends’ table and was waiting for Gigi to deliver her final line - but it never came.

Instead, a deafening gasp echoed through the room.

And then Gigi was falling.

Tumbling.

Down, down, down at a rapid pace, and thankfully one of her fellow dancers, Kiara, was there to catch her. Widow had called out in worry, but let out a great sigh of relief when she saw the redhead’s thin frame fall into the arms of the other dancer.

Kiara kept Gigi in a fireman’s lift as more encircled people rushed towards them to assist.

Crystal barely understood what was going on, but she watched as the crowd was parted once more to make way for the - what looked like - unconscious girl. Kiara carried her behind a curtain, taking her out of sight, and Widow rushed in after, leaving the audience silent, and slightly dazed.

The band started up again, but it was a mere distraction. Everyone began to dance and mingle once again, but Crystal couldn’t think straight. Her mind was swarmed with thoughts and concerns. Was Gigi okay? Did she pass out? Does that usually happen? Was it part of the act? Jaida could sense her discomfort, so she placed a hand on Crystal’s thigh. Although it was to calm the brunette down, it was also so she didn’t fly out of her seat to try and find Gigi backstage. Whatever was happening would be dealt with.

Behind the curtain, dancers Yvie and Kiara were all frantic trying to find somewhere to lay Gigi down. They spotted a red plush chaise lounge and gently placed her down. The redhead’s skin was even paler than usual, the places where her lipstick had rubbed off were slightly blue, and her eyes were shut. Her skin was _extremely_ cold, so Kiara wrapped her in a scarf she found laying on the floor.

 _”Merde,_ Yvie, loosen her corset,” she fizzled, and the taller woman rushed over to try and untie the many strings. By the time she finished, the on-sight nurse had arrived.

With the mere warm touch of the nurse’s hand, Gigi regained consciousness. She was panting heavily and her head was slick with sweat despite her dropped temperature. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling, and her eyes explored the room to try and identify her surroundings.

“Is everything okay, chérie?” Kiara asked, placing her hand over Gigi’s.

“Mhm,” she chuckled weakly. “Must’ve just laced up my corset a little too tight.”

The nurse didn’t believe a word of what the redhead said. She was definitely hiding something. Her suspicions were confirmed when Gigi coughed up splutters of red into a handkerchief. This was much more than a tight corset.

Gigi barely had time to recover. The clock displayed that it was almost time for her first private session, so Yvie hoisted her up and helped her pull into yet another tight corset - just a few inches looser - and a long, satin red dress. Kiara fluffed up the girl’s hair, fixed her plump lipstick and smiled warmly.

“If anything else happens, you know where to find us, right?”

The redhead swallowed, “Of course.”

 _God, I just want to fly away from here_ thought Gigi, right as Widow stormed in.

“Genevieve, is everything alright?” the cabaret owner shouted, rushing over to where the girl was currently being zipped into her dress.

“Yes! Of course!”

“Oh, good,” Widow grinned. “You certainly worked your magic tonight with that Crystal girl on the dance floor, huh?”

Gigi whipped around from her spot facing the mirror, blushing at Widow’s knowing stance.

“Do you think I look irresistible enough for this _private show?”_ she pouted, and Widow could only profusely nod.

Crystal remained sitting in her booth, rather shaken up, as she anticipated some kind of update on Gigi’s wellbeing. She chewed on her nails, eyes flicking to her watch every so often. Jaida kept a hold on her leg and had to add some pressure when the brunette began to bounce it. The anxiety only went away when Widow Von’Du returned to the stage, a microphone in hand.

“The Diamond is okay, my darlings! She got a little worn out but do not fret! She’s now preparing for her private shows!”

God, Crystal had been so distracted and worked up over Gigi’s safety that she practically forgot she had a private show booked with her. Her concerns were now replaced with jitters. She didn’t really know how the whole thing worked. Would she enter a room and just talk in hopes that something would happen? Did they have time restrictions? Crystal heard that there was sex worker etiquette, but no one thought to break it down for her.

When it drew closer to their session, Nicky led Crystal up a spiral staircase, towards the rooftops which had a large elephant-shaped booth that was filled with colourful sheets and tapestries. The blonde left Crystal at the entrance without a word, so now the writer was left alone, anticipating the hour ahead. 

She stood with her back to the booth, allowing her to look out on Paris in front. Most of the lights had been switched off, but she could see the faint outline of Sacré-Cœur Basilica ahead, and if she tilted her position slightly, she’d be able to see the Tour Eiffel sparkling under the moonlight. The Seine’s water looked like liquid gold from where she was standing, and she was reminded why she moved to the city. 

“This is a wonderful place for a poetry reading, don’t you think?”

She whipped around at the sound of the smooth voice, instantly blushing all over when she met eyes with Gigi.

And then her gaze went south. 

A black corset, black panties, black stockings and black garters. Her red hair stood out against the mouth-watering outfit, and both colours contrasted against her milky white skin which was clean from a single blemish. Crystal wondered if there were blisters under her clothes from where she pulled her corset so tight, until she realised that she was yet to reply to the girl.

”I- yes.”

Was all she could say, and she cursed herself for it.

”You wanna come in?” Gigi asked, waving two fingers and descending behind the curtains of the elephant room. ”We have all kinds of drinks here. What do you like?”

The brunette contemplated, ”Honestly, water would be fine.”

The redhead nodded and reached for the jug, her back to Crystal who stood haphazardly in the centre of the room, feeling very overdressed in her flowery red dress.

”You’re so tense, princess,” Gigi tutted, turning to Crystal with her lips curled. “Relax. What’s worrying you?”

The brunette giggled shakily, “The fact that I don’t know how this works, on top of the fact that I’m a virgin, on top of the fact that you're probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I can't properly function around you.”

Gigi’s plump lips formed an ’o’ shape, and she placed Crystal’s water glass aside, approaching her and caressing the side of her heated cheeks.

”We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, angel,” she warmly assured. “But you’re like _really_ hot, and I’ve always wanted to do this with a girl, but I’ve never had the opportunity. Don’t think I’m taking you as an experiment, I _definitely_ am attracted to women.” 

“But like… Surely there are rules? What can I and can’t I touch?”

The redhead shrugged and reached behind her back, beginning to untie her corset, “I mean, there are some rules, but for you I’d do anything.”

She finished her sentence right as the corset was unlaced, so she tossed it across the carpeted floor, revealing her perky breasts and hardening nipples to the brunette.

Without another word, the two of them leaned in for a kiss. Gigi knew that kissing was against the rules, but Crystal’s lips looked _so_ soft that it would be impossible not to take just a little taste. The kiss was hot and desperate. Gigi’s hands were at Crystal’s scalp, tugging and eliciting pretty sounds from the girl, pulling her in. On instinct, Crystal let her leg slip between the redhead’s thighs, and what she wasn’t expecting was to feel the immense slickness between them. She pulled away at the sensation.

“God, are you _wet?”_ she panted.

“Have been since the second I saw you.”

Crystal instantly pulled her back in.

Then they were backing towards the bed, both making filthy sounds as Crystal went further down, nipping on Gigi’s neck with her teeth, making her writhe below her. Although leaving marks was against the rules, Gigi also didn’t care for that. She wanted Crystal to mark her all over. 

They fell on to the mattress in a straddling position with the brunette on top, who gently rolled her hips against the dancer.

“You’ve seriously never done this before?” Gigi questioned in disbelief.

The brunette’s blush crept up her neck, “No I just- I just really want it- _you..._ like so bad.”

“I’m all yours.”

Crystal latched her lips onto Gigi’s swollen nipples, gently biting them and drawing her tongue across them. Whilst she kept her mouth attached to one, she kept her hand attached to the other, thumbing the swollen bud and driving Gigi crazy beneath her. 

“Take off my underwear,” whispered Gigi, so the brunette made a start, moving down to the dancer’s nether regions and massaging the insides of her soft thighs with her thumb. 

Humming appreciatively, Crystal stroked over the delicate embroidery on Gigi’s panties and nipped at her collarbone before easing them off. Then, she pulled back and made a soft sound at the back of her throat, making her way further down until she was at eyeliner with Gigi’s dripping cunt. She lowered her mouth to the apex of Gigi’s thighs, dipping her tongue in exploratively. She paused to suck her lower lip into her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Gigi’s hands were in her own hair, arching her back when she said; _”I know.”_

Grounding the redhead with her hands on her thighs, she steadily parted them, leaning back down. Her cheeks were hollow with a desperate glint in her eyes. She judiciously alternated using the tip and the flat of her tongue, smiling into it, obviously enjoying the wet, lewd sounds the woman below her was making.

“Oh my God, Crystal. Fuck- you’re so good at this baby.”

The praise only made her go harder. She decided to slip a finger in. It was then she truly started getting rough. The burn was slight, real, and entirely wonderful. It was so wonderful that Crystal could hear it happening - that sound of fingers working into wetness. The rapid increase. Gigi felt herself tensing, her shoulders bunched.

“F-f- Crystal- fuck.”

She kept on moving both her tongue and finger and soon enough, the pressure of Gigi’s thighs around her head intensified. Her hips moved upwards, heavy moans filling the air, and Crystal felt like she was almost going to suffocate under the tight grip of those strong porcelain thighs and the movements of her hips. Not like she could think of a better way to go, though.

The image of Crystal looking up at her from between her legs burned into the backs of Gigi’s eyelids as she came. It was an image for her to relieve at later times, but a pleasure unrepeatable by her own means.

Gigi stifled a scream, the force of her orgasm crashing over her like waves against a jagged cliff surface. Crystal's tongue and fingers didn't pause in their tempo, easing her down from her high even as a warm, wet tongue wreaked havoc over her clit.

Eventually she slowed down and pulled back, her red lipstick smudged down her chin, mixed with Gigi’s slickness. She lifted her head back up so she was eye-to-eye with Gigi, who was smiling blissfully. 

“Was that okay?” the brunette mumbled, and Gigi almost audibly laughed.

“Oh my God, Crystal. That was the best I ever had. Men can’t touch me like that, you know. You’ve got a talent with your tongue, princess.”

“You mean like, multilingual?”

The redhead snickered, “Yeah. Sure. Multilingual.”

Crystal blushed, “Thanks.”

The dancer bit her lip, getting a smudge of red on her lips, “You want me to return the favour.”

“God, _please,”_ she whined.

Once Crystal’s dress was discarded across the room and the brunette had come undone under Gigi’s long, slender fingers, the two of them lay together in pure euphoria. The redhead’s head lay on Crystal’s chest, tucked beneath the large curve of her breasts. The brunette hummed a little tune whilst she strokes Gigi’s cheekbones.

“Don’t you have another appointment after this?” she whispered.

“They can wait,” she sighed. “I think I’m in love.”

Crystal knew the comment was a playful joke, but she couldn’t help but think that perhaps the reason why her heart couldn’t beat properly when she looked at Gigi was because she was experiencing love at first sight. She could get lost in her chocolate dough eyes.

They spent the next two months together, during Gigi’s time away from the cabaret. They explored Paris together, climbed the Tour Eiffel, painted portraits of one another and explored every part of each other’s bodies until they both knew exactly what the other liked. Gigi told Crystal of her hopes and dreams to one day sing at the Palais Garcier and get red roses thrown at her. Crystal told Gigi of her aspirations as a novelist, hoping to write a romance novel between two women and start a journey in normalising unconventional couples. 

There was a struggle, at first. Crystal was torn between her own insecurities and the prospect that, perhaps, Gigi was using her. They would kiss and hold one another, but then Widow (or any Moulin Rouge worker) - who were all very accepting of same sex relationships - would appear, and Gigi would push Crystal off her and pretend like she was invisible. She’d leave every so often in the middle of the night, leaving a note explaining that she had another hookup to attend to. Maybe Crystal was delusional, but the two of them did _everything_ that couples were supposed to do, and for Gigi to be so tender with her only to turn around and leave her up in the air seemed unfair, so the brunette decided to talk to her about it.

“What are we Gigi?” she had said one night whilst the two of them dined in Crystal’s kitchen. “Because you’re telling me I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you and kissing me all over, and then you’re going out and screwing some other man, and I don’t even just mean for work. You’re screwing other men for free when I- well I thought you were mine.”

Gigi had winced, and then she assured Crystal that she had no idea the latter felt that way, but admitted that she almost felt the same. She had strong feelings for the brunette, but struggled over the fact that they wouldn’t be able to _truly_ be together in the world they lived in. 

“Maybe in fifty years,” the writer had said, wiping away Gigi’s tears with her thumbs.

So, Gigi stopped sleeping around with men. Her and Crystal were official - but still not with an official label. They also tried to keep as private as possible, that was, until it came to Crystal marking her territory.

They tried to spend as many nights together as they could, but Widow grew frustrated with Gigi’s absence from many late-night performances at the Moulin Rouge, and the fact that the redhead was skipping out on private-shows with men at any given opportunity.

The truth was, once you tried it once with a woman, it was almost impossible to go back to men. Women were, to put it simply, better.

But Gigi would have these _episodes._ All the time, it was constant. They would come undone beneath one another, things would be blissful, perhaps they’d be drunk, and then Gigi would just _faint._ Her cheeks would whiten and her lips would turn blue and the veins across her eyelids and trailing from her mouth would become more prominent. She’d be cold and limp like a corpse in Crystal’s arms, but then the brunette would simply shake her back to life again, and Gigi would brush it off like it was nothing.

Crystal was almost used to it by now. The redhead had told her time and time again that it was nothing to worry about, and she was starting to believe her. Until one Friday night they spent together in the elephant room after Gigi had performed for hours without a break. Gigi was laying on Crystal’s chest like the first night they shared, and the latter was about to cup Gigi’s chin and pull her up into a gentle kiss when she realised that the girl’s eyes were closed. She chuckled slightly, assuming she was asleep, until she noticed how _pale_ she was, and how her lips were just a tad blue. 

Gigi had fainted in her arms, and this time, shaking wasn’t helping.

“Oh God,” Crystal lifted up her limp body, pulling her out onto the rooftops and calling out for something, _someone_ to come and help. She shrieked from the rooftops, begging for assistance. 

A backup dancer on their smoke break heard the brunette’s cries and rushed over. She recognised Gigi and must have been familiar was her limp state.

“Put her in the recovery position,” the dancer said frantically, “I’m getting Widow.” With that, she ran off at immense speed, leaving Crystal to tend Gigi on her own.

How could Crystal have known that a force darker than lack of acceptance in society, and stronger than love, had began to take hold of Gigi.

Once she was placed on the cold concrete and put into the recovery position, Gigi began to cough unstoppably. Crystal pulled a handkerchief she had tucked in to her sleeve before the night began, and placed it beneath Gigi’s mouth, watching the blood splutter from the back of the redhead’s throat and into the white linen. 

Crystal panicked and refrained from holding the girl to her chest. 

“What’s going on, Gigi? Why is this… Why do you keep doing this?” she cried. “I think I- I think I love you. You need to tell me these things… You need to tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“Crystal-“ she choked. “I’m sick. Okay? I’m just a little bit sick. But it’s okay. I love you I’m sorry. I love you. It’s okay,” she began to sob.

“You don’t have to pretend, okay? Don’t hide anything from me, Gee. Okay? Tell me the truth.”

“That _is_ the truth, Crystal,” she became increasingly frustrated. “That’s just how it is.”

Over the next few weeks, Crystal watched as the colour was drained from her lover. She went from wearing flamboyant, rhinestone riddled garments, to pure black tulle, with black headpieces that concealed her face, which was paler than a ghost’s. It was the offseason, and the Moulin Rouge was running low on money and Crystal was running low on inspiration now that Gigi had lost her way.

The skies turned from grey to greyer as January, and Crystal’s hair followed suit. Her brown streaks showed strands of grey, despite her being only thirty.

Gigi started coming over less, and then she stopped coming over at all. Crystal didn't have the energy to chase after her.

The trio had begun a tour of France, so Crystal remained home alone, indulging herself in all kinds of alcohol and French cheeses. She put on some weight, but she was too afraid of the mirror to notice.

From her window, she could see the Moulin Rouge lightly up the city still, and she wondered what dazzling performance Gigi was putting on that day. 

By April, she was so drained of who she truly was, that she thought the only way she could find her way again was by visiting the Moulin Rouge one last time.

She left her bed for the first time in days - weeks, even. She put on her best dress - a cream dress with a built-in corset covered in silver and gold stars - and styled her hair to cover up her grey spots. She put on her best shoes and returned to the theatre for the first time in months, and it was practically unrecognisable.

It was clear to her that they had found some elaborate investor, who had given them enough money to build a proper stage with an expensive set and a wide seating area. Crystal took her place in the middle, where she knew she would blend into the crowd. She started in awe as the brand new orchestra pit filled up, warming up for the performance.

When the curtains opened, Gigi appeared centre stage, still the star of the show. She was covered in beads and highly saturated fabrics, but Crystal didn't miss the small cough she let out before beginning her song.

The writer didn't recognise the song - it was something in French - but Gigi looked so ethereal draped in many glittering materials. 

But she also looked so _miserable._

Every movement was an effort for the girl. There were evident bags under her eyes, and her cheekbones we're even more defined than before, in a way that Widow should’ve _known_ wasn't healthy. 

Once the Act 1 finale wrapped up, Crystal had to excuse herself. Seeing Gigi in such a predicament made her heart hurt, and not just in a _’I'm in love with you and I miss you like hell’_ sort of way, but also in a, _’I’m very concerned for your health and I think you're dying but no one but me seems to care.’_

While she frantically scoured for a bathroom to empty her stomach into, Crystal found herself stumbling into a room that she _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to be in.

And there she stood, a handkerchief over her mouth, eyes wide.

“You shouldn’t be here, Crystal,” Gigi whispered, pushing past the girl, all while choking up droplets of blood into the white linen. 

The redhead tried to get away, running despite her immense weakness. It couldn’t have been easier for Crystal to catch up with her. She reached out to grab her shoulder, but the dancer flipped around and swatted it away. 

_”I need to get on stage, Crystal,”_ she said through clenched teeth.

“You can’t go on stage like _this,_ Gigi. You’re fucking dying, Gigi! Did you ever think to get a diagnosis? You tick every box for TB. Did you know that, Gigi? Every fucking box. You probably didn’t know that, because you refuse to seek help, but _why?_ So many people would be willing to help you! There are doctors, there are-“

“-I know, Crystal! I’ve known the whole time! I know what I have!”

Crystal was silent, and she clenched her jaw hard. 

“Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love,” she spat.

The brunette realised what a mistake she had made attending the cabaret that night, so she knew it was time to leave. She walked down the steps, head low in shame. Although her head was turned, she knew the redhead’s eyes were still burning into the back of it. Apparently Gigi was no longer in a rush to get on stage. 

“Crystal?”.

Crystal _swore_ to herself that she wouldn’t turn around. She knew that if she turned around and looked into Gigi’s chocolate dough eyes, she would fall in love all over again. 

But it was a mistake she was willing to make.

“Yes?” she said shakily, slowly turning her body 180 degrees.

Gigi sucked in a deep breath, “I’m so in love with you. I look at you and I can't look away, Crys. You make me so happy and it terrifies me. I want to be around you all the time, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you hurt me?”

“Because I- well I-“ if Crystal could see through Gigi’s eyes, she would see the latter’s vision become blurred and hazy. She would see that the world began to defocus and collapse around her.

The brunette watched as a mix of saliva and red dribbled from Gigi’s lips, all while the dancer took in shaky breaths that sounded so incredibly painful. Crystal ran up to her and clutched the back of her head, drawing her thumb over the blood, before calling out once again.

“SOMEBODY GET SOME HELP!”

Widow rushed through with Kiara, before the latter was sent off to fetch the doctor. 

“I’m sorry Crystal-“ Gigi sobbed between coughs, “I didn’t want to fall for you because I’m- I am dying Crystal.”

A crowd had gathered around the couple, tears in everyone’s eyes, but they all remained silent.

“You’ll be alright. You’ll be okay!” Crystal tried to say, but she was convincing nobody. She kept repeating the sentence as she pulled Gigi in, the redhead’s burning forehead buried in her neck. 

“You need to go on and write your novels, Crystal. You need to go on,” she murmured.

“But I can’t go on without you.”

 _”You can._ You can tell our story, baby! Tell our story to anyone that will listen. Please.”

Gigi pulled back, her pale face now covered in Crystal’s falling tears and the blood that trickled from her mouth. And then she went limp in her arms, and that was it. The sharp breathing stopped, leaving nothing but Crystal’s sobs to fill the room. 

The brunette collapsed to the floor with the body in her arms, feeling like a little bit of herself died with Gigi.


End file.
